Romance Fortress?
by Beverii
Summary: You X Class moments. You were in a base full of 9 men; one always stands out more than the others. Suggestions will be taken! T for language and possible violence.
1. Moment I: Spy

**AN: So I've been dead for God knows how long. I had an extremely long writer's block. Basically, I've been spending my time playing more games rather than studying and writing. Haha. But it's good to submit on FF again **

**This is a little TF2 drabble. Basically consisting of random You X Class moments. Feel free to give suggestions and what not in the reviews. I have a preference for humor, as you can tell. :D**

****Moment I: Spy.

So let's say you were part of the team. You were pretty badass, actually. It's the 1950s, since when do females go out and carry a god damn gun around?

No matter; there was something called respawn if you died anyway.

On some days, the base was rather quiet. The opposing team, for some rather unknown reason, wouldn't lay a foot near your team's ground. Not that you minded of course. That day was simply one of those days.

Tugging the blanket to your chin, you tried to get some sleep that morning. Last night was terrible, nd you wish not to be reminding of it. Of course, being in a base full of men and shit simply preventing you from closing your eyes.

The god damn Heavy was storming down the hallways yelling some things in Russian whereas the Demoman was screaming something in Scottish.

_Fuck_, was the only word running through your head then, eyebrows twitching and frustration building up. Within 5 seconds, you threw the covers off of yourself and got off the bed hastily.

Okay, so the wake up call wasn't the best. The hallways were coated with burnt marks, possibly from Pyro's fiasco last night. Obviously, you're not cleaning that mess up. Hungry and rather tired, you made your way to the kitchen to hopefully find one of Heavy's sandvich or Scout's Bonk Energy Drink. Instead of a fucked up team, it was the sophisticated Frenchman sitting on the table, reading a newspaper with an empty plate beside him.

'Ah, what iz zee lady looking for today?' He asked, eyes not moving from the grey piece of paper. Another crash was heard followed by what seemed to be Medic giving out a howl. 'Just ignore zem.' Spy quickly said, before you yourself could say anything. 'You will get used to it.'

You gave a slight smile, thankful that there was at least one quiet person you can relate to in the base (except Sniper. All he ever did was lock himself in his own territory). 'Doesn't sound easy to get used to,' You replied, making you way to the white refrigerator. You opened it and gagged when your eyes caught a…raw intestine somewhere on the second rack.

'Like I said, it eez normal.' Spy reminded upon hearing you make a noise. This time, he turned his head to you. Both of you looked at each other for a moment, before you heard some sort of swishing from what appears to be the Pyro burning something. 'It's been a year, Spy. How am I going to get used to this?' You asked, trying to reach for a sandvich from the top rack, grumbling because it was simply too high for you. Spy sighed deeply, putting down his newspaper and making his way towards you. 'I'll get zat.'

Without time for you to move, you felt his breath on your ear as he trapped you between himself and the refrigerator as he effortlessly grabbed a sandvich. This was enough to cause you to blush mildly and you prayed Spy wouldn't notice.

Because you were blushing and standing rigid, he waved the sandvich in front of you comically. 'You are welcome,' He said rather impatiently, expecting you to give a reply. That got your attention, 'Oh, right. Thanks.' He gave a smirk before gently brushing your hair out of your eyes. You stared at him, and he stared back. Somehow, both of you were leaning in, for whatever reason. Not that you minded of course...

_Bang!_ You jerked back and Spy sharply turned to the kitchen entrance. 'Shit, again?' He muttered, appearing rather annoyed by the unexpected interruption. You yourself felt your eyebrows strain slightly, wanting to slap the other members.

'I'll...deal with 'zem.' Spy sighed, placing his hands in pockets, 'Au revoir,' And before you could react, he stroked your hair rather lovingly before walking out of the room.

You stood there for a moment, stunned. The sandvich was still in your hands, and you felt yourself blush. You could hear your silly team members still shouting away like no tomorrow, a few gun shots and, for some reason, laughter. You smiled to yourself dreamily.

Maybe you could get used to this after all.


	2. Moment II: Scout

**AN: Posting 2 chapters in a day.**

**Hope you guys love the Scout as much as I do! Or...hate. Depends really; I love love-hate relationships.**

Moment II: Scout

Hate! So much hate for that Scout! You cursed as he hit your head with a ball. Being a total _dick_ he was, he told you to move out of the way instead of apologising.

_So _much sympathy he had. You resisted the urge to flip the bird at him as you moved out of the field to the base entrance. 'It's not that hard to say sorry!' You yelled at him, one hand on the handle and another one pressing against your throbbing head.

'Well, geez, I'm sorry!' Scout replied in a rather sarcastic manner, putting down his bat and placing his bandaged hands on his hips. You felt a vein pop when you heard his tone. Oh, that _idiot! _He really needed a hit on the head.

Instead of opening the door, your hand dropped to your side as you shot a glare at Scout. You jabbed a finger at his direction, 'I swear, you're gonna get your lesson learnt.' You heard him chuckle at your threat. 'Oh, bring it on, little girl,' he challenged, smirking in a teasing manner which...irritated you despite making him look rather...cute.

Well, hell with that; you're not going to fall for it. You stormed up to him, planning to snatch his baseball bat and hide it _FOREVER. _He was never, ever ever EVER, going to play baseball EVER again. Especially not when you were around, you've got hit in the head enough times already. It's almost impossible to count.

By the time you were an arm's length, you effortlessly reached out and snatched the god forsaken baseball bat out of Scout's hands. For some reason, he didn't expect that, as shown on his shocked expression on his face. 'H-hey! My bat!' He cried out in a rather immature fashion. In an attempt to get his precious item back, he flung his hands towards you, waving them as you teased him by holding it on the hand furthest from him. 'Oh come on, give it back!' Scout whined. You watched as he gets more and more annoyed with each passing second.

Naturally, you were pleased. Unforunately, Scout didn't take your kind of shit. Out of the blue, he grips you by both shoulders and plants a kiss on your lips.

Oh, fuck.

Where the fuck did that come from?

Something stopped you from pulling back. That burning sensation that built in you when he planted those lips on your's. Really, fuck man. Not even Pyro could beat that flame you had in you right then and there.

By the time he pulled back, his smirk was still on his face, one of his hands on your cheek stroking it. 'Can I have my bat now?' Scout asked in a much more delicate tone. There was silence, which he took as if he missed something out. '...please?' He added cheekily, smiling broadly at you.

You sighed, admitting defeat to this...idiot. Reluctantly, you handed the bat over in which he reacted with a peck on your cheek.

Blushing, you hit him on the shoulder swiftly, 'I still hate you for hitting me with the ball so many times.' You heard him laugh. 'Why? Do you want me to kiss your forehead too?'

He was on the ground within ten seconds.


	3. Moment III: Medic

**AN: In response to RainIsee: It's most likely oneshots unless people demand for more haha XD**

**Don't you love it when your crush sits down with you while you're sick? It's cute, really.**

Moment III: Medic

You let out another agonising sneeze. Tossing your mucus-coated tissue into the waste paper basket beside your bed, you groaned and rolled over on your bed. Fuck this cold, fuck the weather. It was winter outside and when all the team members were enjoying snowball fights and building snow forts, you were stuck it your _god damn room, _with a _god damn cold._

You heard someone knock on your window. Grumbling, you turned to it to see Scout tapping on it. Grumbling AGAIN, you lazily slid off your bed and opened the window. "What?" You snapped. Scout simply gave a broad grin, "Sucks you're missing out on all the fun, [Y/N]. How abou-" "No." and before you gave him a chance to reply, you shut the window right in his face. Drawing the curtains, you dumped yourself back on your bed, hoping Scout will get the message not to disturb you.

Besides, Medic was around. You felt better just being in the base with only you and him around.

Sure, you got along with the team well. All of them were friends to you. But when you fell ill, they told you to get well soon before running out the door. Sighing, you fumbled for the remote on the bedside table, hoping you could catch some good dramas or news on the television opposite you.

Before you could hit the "on" button, your door creaked and Medic peeked inside your room. Relief washed over you. Finally, somebody who actually cared about you. "How are you feeling?" Medic asked, smiling at you. You flushed slightly, "Fine. Nothing too serious. It's so mild, your Medi-gun can't fix it." You said, attempting to joke before mentally slapping yourself for saying something so stupid.

However, the Medic gave a light chuckle. "You should be fine tomorrow." He casually walked into your room and shut the door quietly. By then, you had turned on the television and was looking at what appeared to be a corny Korean drama. "Oh God, not this again," you complained, obviously sick of the series.

Medic raised his eyebrows, eyeing on the screen which was showing an entwining couple. "It was obvious they'd end up together," he mumbled. You giggled softly when you heard him. "You actually watch this series?" The words you said were followed by a laughter. Who knew the German Medic would watch dramas?

He blushed, and waved his hands in a silly manner, denying whatever you had just said. Or at least, too scared to admit it. "N-No. I happened to watch the previous episode yesterday," He lied, faking a cough and turning away. You smiled, and skimmed through the other channels. You finally found a cooking show decent enough to watch.

Because you were giggling away like a school girl, you failed to notice Medic placing a tray on your bedside table. You turned to look at it. The smell of steaming hot chicken soup filled your nostrils...then Medic ruins the moment by placing a box tissues beside it. Boo.

"Hopefully, that would help," Medic stated, crossing his arms, "I can see the look on your face when you watch the others playing outside. Too agonising?" Agonising wasn't even the word to describe it. That sinking feeling you get when it's like the school holidays but you're sick and can't do anything. And come on, it was winter to boot. Snow everywhere and all the games you could play.

"Is there a faster way to recover?" You asked, glancing out the window and feeling a pang on your chest when you see your team members laughing away. "Other than the soup and being optismistic? Well, you're already recovering at a very fast pace." Medic replied, taking a seat at the edge of your bed. You looked at him curiously. Then it hit you-you were simply lonely and bored. The lack of social interraction made you slightly pessimistic about your own recovery.

You gave a smile, "Keep me company for today? Please?" Medic stared at your smiling face, as if it was radiating. You didn't look sick-at all. And if that made you feel more optimistic and sped up your recovery, Medic surely wouldn't mind.

"Of course." He replied, "In fact, I'll keep you company until you recover."

You found yourself playing in the snow with the team the next morning, all thanks to Medic.

**AN: That was...rather innocent...kinda lacking on the violence and guns LOL. I did like it in the end :)**


	4. Moment IV: Sniper

**AN: One more :)**

**Okay, this class is my most used class. I love the Australian to death.**

Moment IV: Sniper

Dinner time. You muttered a soft, "yes!" you yourself. Finally, food! One thing women love more than anything else is FOOD. You hastilly slipped on a jacket to fight off the cold air from the air conditioners and dashed out of the room.

One thing you were particular about was the full team having dinner together. You couldn't help it; you simply felt bonding was important. The team was strong in terms of friendship of course, but there's that one person that isolated himself most of the time: Sniper.

By the time you reached the dining hall, you were glad everyone was there. As usual, it was pretty hectic. No surprise that food was flying in random places, Spy attempting to keep them in control. Heavy was stuffing himself with sandviches as usual, Scout with his energy drink, Demoman with his alchohol and laughing away...You scowled. "Alright. Where's Sniper?"

The team froze immediately, as if you were the Administrator. Being a woman had its perks..

"...He's probably in his territory as usual," Engineer replied, holding onto a wrentch and trying to fix the leaking pipe from the sink (shit man, things never fail to break in this place.). You gave an angry huff, crossing your arms in distaste and frustration. "How about going upstairs to check then?" Engineer suggested. You shrugged, "Not much choice there." And just like that, you stalked off to the ladder which led to Sniper's 'forbidden' territory (and the team decides to go back throwing food everywhere. Fuck, you were NOT cleaning that shit up.).

You knocked on the trapdoor that led to Sniper's room. With one hand holding on to the side of the ladder and another knocking, you definitely wanted to head inside quickly. After a few seconds, the trapdoor opened and you climbed up, finding solid ground to stand on.

Sniper was casually lying on his bed which was against the wall, had a book in his hands and a cup of coffee on his bedside table. "Yes, shiela?" Sniper acknowledged, watching you curiously behind his orange sunglasses he adored so much.

You automatically took a seat on one of the wooden chairs and leaned back. "Isolationism, they call it?" You asked, a serious face still...on your face. Sniper shrugged, reaching for his cup which read "#1 Sniper" on it. You stared at the cup, steam coming out from it. "Trust me, shiela, it's betta' this way. You wouldn't want me there," He said, putting the cup down after taking a sip from it.

"As if," You replied instantaneously, not taking the time to think for a better answer. You saw his lips curve into a slight smirk right after he heard your reply. Something tells you that he just dropped a hint.

"Really? You'd be covered in food by now if I was there. I'm not a sniper for nothin'," He said, flipping a page of his thick book, "I never miss."

A chuckle left you lips when you heard that. Well, that _was_ true. Food fights happened everyday; if it was a competition on who aims the best it'd be the Australian. Then you remembered-You were here to bring him downstairs to eat. Somehow, you didn't really care too much for that right now. A little chat wouldn't be harmless, right?

You slid off your jacket and placed it on the bedside table, hoping Sniper wouldn't mind. "Coming down or not?" you asked, hoping for a 'yes' to escape his lips. Silence for a moment. You assumed Sniper was thinking for a decent answer.

"If I say yes, you'd be ruining your shirt. Do you want that? It's branded." He nods at your shirt, which was black and made of a comfortable material. "It happens everyday," you replied, smiling, "Why should I mind?"

Sniper closed his book and placed it beside him on the bed, sit by the edge and finally turned to face you. "I purposely kept myself up here so you could come in and see me, because I hardly ever talk to you," He admitted. You raised your eyebrows curiousily. Surely he was joking? He was probably dropping another subtle hint.

Actually, it wasn't subtle. It was written all over his handsome face: you knew what he wanted. You felt a blush creep up and you let out a laugh. "Talk? That's it? You sure?" You wanted to tease him a bit. Hey, you couldn't deny it; it was fun. You heard him gave a half annoyed, half pleased chuckle, "Alrigh' shiela, you read my mind."

It took you less than a second to leap to your feet, wrap your arms around his neck and pull him up to for a kiss. Well, if that's what he wanted and that's what _you _didn't mind doing, why not? The feeling was fucking awesome anyway.

You pulled back with your hands on his neck, a playful smile on your lips and on his own. "So, now you coming downstairs?" You asked, looking behind those sunglasses to see his eyes staring right back at you.

He leaned in so that you could feel his breath on your ear, and he gave one more request.

"Only if you come back here tonight."


	5. Moment V: Pyro

**AN: It's 11pm at night and I stll have homework to do.**

**Well, here's another chapter. If more reviews come in I think I'll do some more :)**

Moment V: Pyro

Despite being with the team for god knows how long, there's always that one guy you knew nothing about: the little pyromaniac. Something told you he was always up to something, or maybe a Spy for that matter.

He was like anyone else: throwing food, burning things, running around like a crazed maniac, mumbling some stuff behind that gas mask, and burning more things. And then when he sees you, he'd pause from all that running, wave at you in a cute-sy manner, and then run off again. You'd just stand there, puzzled.

Within the years you were convinced he wasn't a Spy, and eventually found him rather adorable. He always waved, and somehow you'd wave back. It became a daily routine, not that you minded of course.

During one winter, you opened up the door to your room, shivering. You jumped on bed, threw the sheets over your head, and dozed off. You woke up the next morning feeling rather warm. Lifting yourself up, you turned to the nearby fireplace and found it burning. Remembering that you didn't light it up last night due to lethargy, you gave a thanks to the Pyro, even though you weren't 100% sure it was him.

That's when you remembered it was Christmas.

Putting out the fire place, you put on a thick sweater and walked out to the meeting room. The Christmas tree stood upright near a corner of a wall, ornaments twinkling under the flourescent light and soft music playing from the music player under the tree. And of course, many, many presents. You scanned the room curiously, hoping to find somebody...

The door slammed open behind you to reveal nine cheering men wishing each other a Merry Chirstmas.

"Eh, [Y/N], you're up early!" Scout first commented, naturally. You shrugged, "I happen to be a woman, for your information." Pyro was behind him, waving at you in that usual cute-sy manner. You could comehow sense he was smiling awkwardly behind that gas mask. You waved back, grinning.

So after hours and hours of singing, stuffing each other with food, flying cake (**LOL JK THE CAKE IS A LIE)** and more food, it was finally time to tear open the awaiting presents. Heavy's hand-made scarf made you giggle a bit, and you had to admit that was a cute present. You received quite an arsenal of clothes too. Whoppee, Abbercombie!

Pyro's present came as a surprise to you though. He came up to you, looking down rather embarassed. You turned to him and looked. "Yes?" You asked, eyeing his hands which were behind his back. He mumbled something in response, and with his head still down, he handed you a little box, wrapped in a slightly burnt wrapper (Which was totally predictable actually, all his wrappers were like that.).

You stared at the pyromaniac wide eyed, before gladly accepting the little box. You said your thanks, and he mumbled something behind that mask, before dashing out of meeting room. You tilted your head to one side, before asking the team, "What was that about?"

The eight of them were ignorant as usual, and they shrugged dumbly.

After more tearing open of presents (Oh hell you weren't cleaning up the scraps of paper. Damn Scout, tearing open everything like nobody's business), you opened the door to your room, stiffled a yawn, and sat on your bed, Pyro's little box still in your hands.

You carefully loosened the red ribbon on it, and took of the wrapper without damaging it. Well, technically speaking it was arleady damaged. Your hands held onto a black box, slightly fuzzy. This made you even more curious, and you opened it without delay.

A small note was attached to the unscathed silver necklance lying on the red cushioned box. Smiling broadly and blushing, you took it out to read it.

_..._

_Mmmf nnfufuruf ffu yuf,_

_meffy missmaffu_

_ruffu,_

_Fyro._

_..._

...

Pyro was an amusing little guy indeed.

**AN: I think I ruined the moment. LOL.**


End file.
